Extracts from 'The People's Democracy 1968-73' by Paul Arthur (1974)

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From the inside cover:

Members of the People's Democracy - and the group itself - were among the most significant protagonists in the initial phases of the present disturbances in Northern Ireland. Basically a student group, it owed much to similar movements in other European countries in the mid-sixties, and yet from its emergence it had a distinctive 'style' that could only have developed in the peculiar political and social circumstances in Northern Ireland at that time. It attracted to its ranks many talented and vigorous young people, some of whom have achieved prominence in political life in the ensuing years. Paul Arthur analyses the policies and strategy of PD and the tensions that developed within it and eventually brought about its virtual demise. The book is brought up to date with an account of the present state of PD - fighting for survival in a country which is itself fighting for survival.

Paul Arthur was educated at Queen's University, Belfast, where he studied Political Science. He is at present teaching in Belfast.

I first met the author in the spring of 1970 when I was Professor
of Politics at Sheffield and had the habit of taking my students
on a field trip to 'Westminster and Whitehall,' the regulation
said, which was always voted 'quite interesting but a bit boring,'
until I got the Faculty to change the regulation, without particularly
explaining why, to '...er some centre of regional government';
and so we went to Belfast. And my colleagues at the Queen's University
arranged for one of their postgraduate students, a Mr. Paul Arthur,
to act as a kind of political Thomas Cook's courier for us, steering
us, with admirable knowledgeability and objectivity (which I distinguish
at times from neutrality) around all points of the political spectrum.
I myself held up the traditional tobacco-tin lid to the then
Miss Bernadette Devlin, as she chain-smoked her way through a
harangue at us; and saw to my surprise and good-mannered relief,
all of my students, even the wildest, get to their feet when the
Speaker of Stormont moved (for they had given us an official lunch,
so startled was anyone at an educational visit to Stormont) the
Loyal Toast in orange juice.

I gathered then that Paul Arthur was writing a M.S.Sc. thesis
on the People's Democracy. It seemed to me an intellectually dangerous
thing to be doing. It is just so very hard to be of scholarly
objectivity about contemporary politics, particularly about -
the point is obvious. It seemed to me perhaps more tolerant than
wise of his supervisors. But when I saw the finished product,
from which this book emerges, not merely did my doubts vanish,
but I saw that Mr. Arthur had pulled off that most rare of achievements:
a really convincing and important scholarly study of a contentious
contemporary movement both by participating in it and observing
it (in different proportion at different times, it is only fair
to him to say) or by setting it in a wider, comparative context.
Too often interesting and important political phenomena get well
or badly reported by journalists, but then they simply vanish
from public eye: the terrible daily paradox of so much effort
by intelligent men going into something utterly ephemeral. Often
long afterwards a scholar comes along looking for the trail, when
it is cold; interviewing the actors in the events when they have
already several times changed their roles; and expecting people
to remember accurately what they would often rather forget or
have already found a protective skin of re - remembering (I would
say, rather than misremembering - that is recreating what one
once did or said in light of where one now stands). Very rarely
does someone with the equipment of a scholar stay with a new movement
long enough to write a definitive account of its origins - and
decline.

Paul Arthur has shown how a student movement, the People's Democracy,
had some significant influence from the days of 1968 when it appeared
both bright, new, strange, startling and (at least to someone
outside the province) even heartening because it cut across old
sectarian lines and showed that some of the younger generation
were refusing to be stereotyped, until it collapsed back not just
into the old sectarianism for that perhaps has to be accepted
as the limits of manoeuvre for a long time hence, but into the
blinkered, violent politics of the old sectarianism - oddly (again
it seems from the outside) so little different on either side.
The reader in Ireland needs no warning that 'P.D.' is but part
of a broader Civil Rights movement. The reader from outside the
province needs to remember that firmly. The author, though then
a student himself, is far from uncritical of P.D's ability to
make contact with ordinary people even in the early days, even
in the Catholic community, among the Protestant majority. 'Student
politics' is, indeed, in my opinion, to be characterised by most
of the things its critics say of it: as a style of politics it
is both too abstract and too passionate, too much in a hurry,
too much committed to abstract ideas of 'the People but often
too lacking in knowledge of or sympathies with the actual aspirations
of ordinary people. Young, inexperienced, impatient and transitory:
the professional politicians nightmare, not so much because of
threat as of irrelevance and unreliability. But consider the professional
politician. Consider the converse of the defects of 'the students.'
How good it is to see a movement of some effect arise from people
who might otherwise simply be busy 'getting their degree and getting
out,' and who were (are?) one of the very few groups in Northern
Ireland who refuse to accept the inevitability of the old divisions
and the reading of history as an inevitable demonstration that
the old thing as it is can never be changed.

The changes that there have been since the beginning of the Civil
Rights movement and of Peoples Democracy show that the old institutional
conservatism of the province has broken down. Many of the slogans
of the past, on both sides, seem less and less descriptive of
possible objectives.

Perhaps I overstress the political. For though no one can or should
be without their own beliefs, or those long meditated prejudgments
that are sometimes badly called (fixed and arbitrary) prejudice,
yet Paul Arthur has simply written an astonishingly detailed,
interesting and objective account of a movement as interesting
to those involved in actual politics in Ireland as to those healthy
parasites, of which I am one, who try to study politics in a scholarly
way. Certainly Mr. Arthur has his biases. But he passes well,
to my mind, the two great tests of political writing: that his
account of the facts will be largely acceptable by those who differ
from him in doctrine; and that he explains realistically the failure
of some things that he would rather have seen succeed. 'The more
one is conscious of one's political bias', wrote George Orwell,
'the more chance one has of acting politically without sacrificing
one's aesthetic and intellectual objectivity.' Mr. Arthur is to
be congratulated on writing one of the best books to arise from
the present troubles.

'Contemporary history embarrasses a writer not only because he
knows too much, but also because what he knows is too undigested,
too unconnected, too atomic. It is only after close and prolonged
reflection that we begin to see what was essential and what unimportant,
to see why things happened as they did, and to write history instead
of newspapers.

Armed with this stricture I approached this work with modest intentions.
My purpose was to write a chronological account of the activities
of the People's Democracy and to analyse it against a backcloth
of international student radicalism; and, where that becomes superfluous,
I have examined its influence in five very turbulent years of
Irish politics. No doubt deeper reflection would have been an
advantage but it is important to record the facts with the aid
of oral evidence before they are allowed to become part of Ireland's
ever-growing political mythology.

Another difficulty arises over my own involvement in PD. I was
a member from the beginning in October 1968 until after Easter
1969 and was closely involved in some of the important decisions
taken during that period; and some of those I write about were
my contemporaries at university. I leave it to the reader to decide
whether my involvement has clouded my judgment.

Originally this work studied PD's activities from 1968-70. I have
added a short postscript to examine its development since 1971.
It does not pretend to be detailed nor particularly analytical.
I was concerned with general trends and PD had long since lost
most of its influence. Its role had become that of providing a
pseudo Marxist gloss to the Provisional Sinn Fein. It had become
so far removed from its original student character that my five
stage model may be no longer applicable.

Finally I have attempted to make the book a little less academic
by excising as many footnotes as possible. These excisions should
not interfere with the flow of the narrative and the missing references
can be checked in a copy of the original thesis at the Queen's
University of Belfast.

This book first saw the light of day as an academic thesis presented
to the Faculty of Social Science at Queen's University Belfast
for the award of a Master's degree. Whatever merit it may have
is largely due to the detailed criticisms and invaluable advice
I received from Dr Cornelius Q'Leary, Dr Roger Scott and Dr Robert
Baxter, all of the Department of Political Science. I should also
thank Professor J H Warrender of that Department. He encouraged
my research interests and offered me the facilities to undertake
this work.

Professor Bernard Crick and Dr Conor Cruise O'Brien were both
kind enough to read the completed thesis and offer valuable new
insights and criticisms. I owe a deep debt of gratitude to all
of these men. Needless to say I accept full responsibility for
any errors of fact or interpretation.

My thanks are due to the Queen's University Librarian and his
staff, to Miss P Howard of the Linen Hall Library Belfast, to
the staff of the Belfast Telegraph Library, and to Kevin
Boyle who gave me the unlimited use of his private press cuttings
and of his time. Similarly I am indebted to those whom I interviewed,
notably Mrs Bernadette McAliskey MP and Mr John Hume MP.

I wish to thank the following authors or publishers for permission
to quote from their work: Professor S M Lipset, editor of Student
Politics; The Journal o/ Social Issues for articles by G Abcarian,
R Flacks, A L Mauss, D R Schweitzer and J M Elden; Derek Birrell,
Harvey Cox and Bob Overy, authors of Papers presented at the Conference
on Conflict in Northern Ireland at Lancaster University in December
1971; The Lyric Players Theatre Belfast (Threshold); and
New Left Review.

Finally I am particularly grateful to my wife for her encouragement
and forebearance. I dedicate this book to her, and to my mother
and father.

'The six north-eastern counties of Ireland were grouped together
and given a parliament and government of their own not because
anyone in the area wanted (let alone demanded) such an arrangement,
but because the British Government thought that this was the only
possible way of reconciling the rival aspirations of the two Irish
parties-the Nationalist (and mainly Roman Catholic) majority,
who demanded self-government for the whole country, and the Unionist
(and mainly Protestant) minority, who wished Ireland to remain
as it was, within the United Kingdom.[1]

The constitutional vehicle for such inauspicious beginnings was
the Government of Ireland Act which became law on December 23,
1920 and was to be brought into operation in June 1921. Its passing
created conditions of turbulence which were to be endemic during
the first fifty years of the State. Between 1920 and 1922 'nearly
300 people were killed, most of them in Belfast, in what amounted
to civil war between Unionists and Catholics.[2] In
1922 alone, 232 people were killed, nearly 1,000 were wounded
while more than £3 million worth of property was destroyed.
Serious sectarian rioting also broke out in 1933, 1935, 1964 and
1966.[3]

Superficially Northern Ireland operated under the liberal democratic
Westminster model of government. It had its own Parliament elected
freely in single member constituencies, and had a government endorsed
by free electors. But it was not a sovereign Parliament, a fact
which was underlined by Section 75 of the Government of Ireland
Act.

'Notwithstanding the establishment of the Parliaments of Southern
Ireland and Northern Ireland, or the Parliament of Ireland or
anything contained in this Act, the supreme authority of the Parliament
of the United Kingdom shall remain unaffected and undiminished
over all persons, matters, and things in Ireland and every part
thereof.'

However, the sovereign Parliament did not devote much attention
to Northern Ireland affairs:

'Although in theory the shadow of Westminster legislation loomed
over Northern Ireland from the beginning, in practice the mother
Parliament had devoted very little time to the affairs of the
six counties - in one period of just over a year in 1934/35 the
time spent was one hour and fifty minutes, and that seems, until
very recently, to have been about the average.[4]

Richard Rose reinforces this point.

'In the five years preceding the disorder of 1969, the Commons
devoted less than one sixth of one per cent of its time to discussions
of Northern Ireland questions; most of this talk concerned matters
of trade, not the matters that affected allegiance to the regime.'[5]

Consequently the governing party in Northen Ireland conducted
their own affairs, largely unhampered by interference from Westminster,
and were able to secure 'the compliance of Ulster Catholics, even
though they could not obtain their support.'[6]

Catholic compliance was. sullen and defiant. Its political mouthpiece,
the anti-partitionist Nationalist party, did not begin to attend
parliament regularly until 1927 (nor did it assume the mantle
of official Opposition until 1965, although it had always been
the largest opposition party).

For its part the governing Unionist party met Catholic complaints
with indifference or antagonism as it strengthened its power base.
The withdrawal of proportional representation from parliamentary
elections in 1929 was considered to be directly political. It
ensured that only those parties which took a firm line on the
constitutional position of Northern Ireland were certain to succeed
at general elections, and the Unionist Party as the historic guardian
of Ulster and British sanctity could look forward to an indefinite
period of untrammelled one-party rule.

Nationalist MPs were reduced to acting 'merely as an ombudsman
for their Catholic constituents and had little interest in the
legislative process'.[7]They succeeded in securing
passage of only one Bill, the Wild Birds Act of 1931. Over the
years the two major parties withdrew to contest only those constituencies
they felt sure they could win. As a result the Unionist Party
never failed to win less than 34 seats in a 52 seat Parliament
between 1929 and 1965 and 'the median figure for uncontested constituencies
at all elections between 1929 and 1965 was 22'. [8]

This state of permanent one party rule in a competitive party
system has been described by one observer, Arendt Lijphart, as
'majority dictatorship'.[9] Perhaps a more helpful
analysis for our purpose is the concept of a 'crystallized politics'.
It has been described thus:

'A crystallized politics is the result of a group of voters which
has developed as a unit, sharply divided from the rest of the
social system and unable either to communicate with it or to understand
its wants and needs. Its representatives are not forced to compromise
because they are a majority of the legislature. They have no need
to go elsewhere for programs and ideas, because the divided society
has produced a political subsystem which produces in turn all
the dynamics of the whole system in microcosm. Opposition becomes
divided, transitional, plaintive and, above all, futile because
there is no need for the legislative majority to attend to the
interests of the opposing groups in the system. If leadership
of this segment of the society is united fully behind a programme
inimical to the interests of the remaining groups in the society,
the whole system can come perilously close to a democratically
sustained, but dictatorial, government.'[10]

This seems to be a useful description of the state of Northern
Ireland politics between 1920 and 1968. But such a system has
a basic flaw:

'. . . there can be little hope for tranquillity in the political system
if the electoral system, functioning normally, produces a majority
in the legislature which rests upon a strong and disciplined large
voting segment which will come together on all issues because
its internal identity is stronger than any issue confronting it'.[11]
What is likely to happen is that 'eventually the pressures of
the minority would become too great'.[12]

There had been a measure of tranquillity until the late 1960's:

'. . . between the early 1920's and the late 1960's Ireland enjoyed
a longer period of freedom from major internal disturbance than
it had known since the first half of the eighteenth century'.[13]

The minority sunk into an attitude of sullen acceptance
and the governing party tackled the underlying economic problems
created by the Government of Ireland Act. F S L Lyons has noted:

'. . . so much effort and so much money went into the frantic
race to keep up with Britain in the scale of social benefits paid
out, that there were no resources left to put through those essential
long-term reforms that ministers had set their hearts on in the
first flush of enthusiasm. So in 1939, as in 1922, the province
was still plagued by ill-health, poor housing, bad roads and inadequate
schools.[14]

The development of a viable economy has always been a major problem
for any Northern Ireland government. Ironically, as the one part
of the United Kingdom which was not forced to introduce conscription,
it benefitted greatly from the economic effects of World War II.
One significant pointer to its war-time prosperity may be mentioned.

'. . . income per head, which had been less than three-fifths
of that in Britain before the war, rose in Northern Ireland between
1939 and 1945 until it was three-quarters of the British figure
. . .'[15] As a result the War 'raised the Ulsterman's standard
of living in the present and aroused his expectations of the future'.[16]

The post-war years saw the rise of the Welfare State in Britain
-and its acceptance in Northern Ireland. The continuing battle
to establish economic viability was not helped by the decline
in the traditional industries of agriculture, textiles and shipbuilding.
Yet progress must be recorded, particularly in the social welfare
field.

While it is true that Northern Ireland was still the most deprived
region of the United Kingdom in socio-economic terms on a comparison
of incomes, unemployment rates and housing conditions,[17]
its record was considerably more healthy than that of the Irish
Republic.'[18]

Thus by the 1960's some economic progress was being made but the
political divide seemed as irreconcilable as ever. As late as
1961 Lord Brookeborough, Prime Minister since 1943, could play
down economic problems by raising the old battlecry: 'Ulster has
only room for one party . . . recent economic issues should not
divide Protestants'.[19] Yet, as the decade progressed, there
was evidence of a growing desire for change, especially after
March 1963 when Capt Terence O'Neill succeeded Lord Brookeborough
as Prime Minister.

To appreciate why change became possible it is necessary to examine
O'Neillism, not only in the context of the Prime Minister's policies,
but also in relation to the British Labour Party's general election
victories of 1964 and 1966, and to the growth of a new middle
class, Catholic as well as Protestant, containing ambitious and
articulate men.

'Improving community relations was a major means by which Terence
O'Neill sought full legitimation of the regime.[20] He
began by recognising the Northern Committee of the Irish Congress
of Trade Unions, an organisation with headquarters in Dublin.
He constantly stressed the need to close the rift in the community,
in particular his speech to a joint Protestant-Catholic conference
at Corrymeela on April 8, 1966.[21] He acted on his words - albeit
symbolically - by visiting Catholic schools and other institutions.
His most daring action was to meet Mr Sean Lemass, Prime Minister
of the Irish Republic, at Stormont on January 14, 1965. (O'Neill
had not bothered to consult his parliamentary party before he
undertook this historic meeting.) A month later the gesture was
reciprocated when a series of inter-departmental discussions on
matters of common interest got under way.

This aspect of his policy appeared to be working since the Nationalists
agreed to accept the role of official Opposition in February 1965.
Richard Rose produces further evidence to illustrate that 'O'Neill's
"era of good feelings" was not a myth.[22] Rose
carried out a survey covering exactly the period in which Terence
O'Neill had then been Prime Minister. Fifty-six per cent of Protestants
and sixty-five per cent of Catholics felt that there had been
a change for the better.[23]

It should be noted however that improved community relations had
very little effect upon political outlooks. 'Among Catholics who
felt that community relations had improved only thirty-six per
cent supported the Constitution, and forty-four per cent still
favoured illegal demonstrations. Improvements in community relations
were associated with a tendency for Protestants to reject Ultra
tactics; these were endorsed by forty-six per cent of Protestants
who thought relations had improved, by sixty-one per cent of those
who thought they had remained the same, and by seventy-one per
cent of the small group that thought they had worsened.'[24]

Essentially the Prime Minister's problems were two-fold; he failed
to bring his own extremists with him; and he could not win the
trust of the minority. 'His clandestine encounters with Lemass
and Lynch (both of whom outwitted him) and his furtive visits
to clerical establishments, together with other similar gestures,
were dismissed as stunts by the opposition, but received with
increasing unease by many of his followers.'[25]

The fear of the more extreme Unionist supporters manifested itself
in the growth of Paisleyism and of the self-styled Ulster Volunteer
Force, which took its name from the illegal army raised by Unionists
in 1913 to fight against Irish Home Rule. Rioting between Catholics
and Paisley's supporters in 1964 and again in 1966,26 and the
murder of a young Catholic by the UVF in June 1966 underlined
the threat of Protestant extremism to O'Neill's community relations
effort. (As a result of the latter action the Prime Minister was
forced to proscribe the UVF under the Special Powers Act on June
23, 1966, the first occasion on which this legislation had been
invoked against a Protestant organisation.)

Within the Unionist Party O'Neill was treated with a measure of
distrust:

'In 1966 and in 1967 there were two revolts within the Unionist
Parliamentary Party which O'Neill put down by the expedient of
broadcasting to the people and challenging his opponents to put
their case. This they were not willing to do and both revolts
ended in votes of confidence of specious unanimity for O'Neill.
Although never publicly acknowledged, the reasons for the intra-party
opposition to O'Neill were inferentially that he seemed to be
going too far to cultivate the minority and the suspect Southern
Government'.[27] Following the riots of 1966, the pro-O'Neillite
Belfast Telegraph reckoned that the Prime Minister could
not be certain of the unequivocal support of eighteen of his thirty-six
parliamentary colleagues.[28]

Underlining the fears of the Party for O'Neill's creeping ecumenism
was the constant worry of the effects of the British Labour Party's
general election victories of 1964 and 1966. The Unionist Party
has been described as a 'party of regional defence' whose 'strategic
strength has lain in its capacity to represent and nurture an
alliance between "Ulster" and the English Conservative
party, or certainly a blocking section of it.'[29]

The dilemma of the Unionists had been illustrated when Labour
was last in power between 1945 and 1951:

'What happened was that at Westminster the Unionist representatives
joined with the Conservative opposition in resisting the socialist
legislation which established the welfare state, while at Stormont
the Unionist party solemnly resolved to annex as much of this
legislation as possible to its own purposes. '[30]

Unionism need not have worried. The post-war Labour Government
had too many other problems on its mind - even if it had the inclination
- to scrutinize Northern Ireland affairs. In fact it appeared
to strengthen the Union when it enacted the Ireland Act of 1949.
An ominous note was struck, however, in the discussion of this
piece of legislation. It 'received an unusual amount of opposition
in the British House of Commons; sixty-three Labour MP's voted
against it at committee stage.[31]

Most of those Members belonged to the Friends of Ireland Group
whose 'aim is to secure democratic Labour Government in Ireland,
both North and South, with a view to attaining a united Ireland
by common consent at the earliest possible moment.'[32]
(This group was not terribly effective although it produced
some damaging propaganda,[33]and embarrassed some
Labour supporters in Northern Ireland.)

The post-1964 Labour Governments shared the same relationship
with Unionism as their predecessors, that is, a Labour Cabinet
too busy to be unduly concerned with Northern Ireland and a sizeable
pressure group within the Labour party which was anti-Unionist.
But there was one major exception. In 1964 Labour was returned
to power with a tiny majority, and was 'particularly resentful
at the influence of the twelve Ulster Unionists, without whom
the Opposition would have presented a far less serious challenge
at Division time . . . Whereas Ulster Unionists had gone into
the Division lobbies to vote against a Rent Act that did not apply
to Northern Ireland . . . it was impossible to raise discrimination
on public bodies appointed by the Government of Northern Ireland
or issues such as housing in Dungannon on the floor of the House
of Commons.[34]

The very first debate to be held on Northern Ireland on February
22, 1965 was a turning-point in Anglo-Northern Ireland relations.[35]
The Speaker refused to alter the convention whereby Ulster affairs
were not discussed at Westminster, and, as a consequence, the
Campaign for Democracy in Ulster (CDU) was established. This successor
to the Friends of Ireland group was to act as a vigilant watchdog
of Northern Ireland affairs within the Labour party.

Its numbers and spirit was improved by Labour's clear victory
in the 1966 General Election and by Gerry Fitt's victory in West
Belfast in that campaign. (Fitt's victory ensured that an alternative
voice to Unionism could be heard at Westminster, a point underlined
by his very forceful maiden speech calling for an enquiry into
Northern Ireland affairs.)[36]Three of its members
visited Northern Ireland early in 1967 and published a report
on April 29 which emphasised 'how near the surface violence lies
in current political life' in Northern Ireland, and issued a plea
for a Royal Commission.[37]

By the middle of the '60s, therefore, it was becoming evident
that political life in Northem Ireland was under change. The Unionist
party, unsure of its Leader's reconciliation policy, was aware
of the scrutinizing attitude of a Labour Government at Westminster.
The stirrings of Protestant extremism and the tenuous position
of Prime Minister O'Neill were signs that reforms would be resisted
by 'loyalists.'

Nor could O'Neill count on the automatic support of the Catholic
community. There were indications that Catholics had turned from
their pre-occupation with the albatross of partition to a willing
acceptance of their status as citizens of Northern Ireland, provided
that they were granted equal status. One possible reason for this
change of heart has been cited by 0 D Edwards in a discussion
on the effects of the ecumenical movement:

'.... the Johannine translation of the concept of community from
ideal to real terms seems to have been extremely important. It
raised a very nasty problem for the Unionist leadership: their
Catholic subjects instead of, as formerly, expecting them to behave
with the perfidy and brutality of damnable heresiarchs, now began
to demand that as members of a community they were entitled to
expect the just rights of all members of that community. The very
arguments that John XXIII himself had made so tellingly in the
context of racial segregation had every relevance to religious
apartheid.[38]

A more obvious reason was the failure of the last Irish Republican
Army (IRA) campaign from December 1956 until February 1962. 'In
all, there were about 300 major incidents, and six members of
the RUC lost their lives.[39][ ]This abortive campaign
highlighted the unwillingness of most anti-partitionists to achieve
their ends through violence. (Also it had an important indirect
influence on Ulster politics insofar as the IRA's activities kept
the constitutional question to the forefront and thereby helped
the Unionists to retain command of the Protestant vote.)

The major reason for their willingness to participate in the affairs
of state lies in the paradox of O'Neillism. The Prime Minister's
moderation lay in avoiding bigotry. It did not extend so far as
to endorse change sufficient to dispel the Catholic sense of grievance.[40]
As we have seen, a section of his own party and the
Protestant Ultras were not prepared to accept any concessions
made to the Catholic minority. In its turn, that minority saw
O'Neillism as a weakening in the politics of the crystallized
majority and a period of rising political expectation.

We should remember that, although most Catholics considered themselves
to be second-class citizens, they did benefit from the social
welfare policies undertaken after World War II. For instance,
the Education Act of 1947 opened up higher education to all those
with the ability to take advantage of it; in the seventeen years
following the Act there was an increase in pupils in grant aided
schools from 213,211 to 295,855 an increase paralleled in the
building and extension of many new schools.[41] O'Neill's
attempt at broadening the economic base also met with some success:

'. . . in the sixties the numbers in employment rose, housing
output increased, the index of wages rose from 100 in 1960, to
118 in 1963, to 173 in 1968 (Digest of Statistics 1969 and Housing
Returns 1969). An Education Act in 1968 gave more money to Catholic
voluntary schools.'[42]

The Prime Minister laid great emphasis on improving the lot of
the Catholic community:

'. . . he assumed that the reason why Catholics protested about
justice and power was that they lacked houses and jobs. . . People
who protest that the rules of the game are biased politically
will be told that the game is not about political power but about
economic well-being.'[43]

He did not realise that this
policy could be self-defeating because it raised the problem of
relative deprivation:

'A steady level of poverty favours the stabilization of social
and cultural relations. But if economic conditions are changing
then people are likely to feel more frustrated and insecure as
they compare their lot with the one that has been held out to
them as their legitimate condition and with other classes and
countries that enjoy a higher standard of living.'[44]

Catholics looked no further than Britain and demanded equal rights
as British citizens.

The change in Catholic attitudes was noted by one observer in
1966:

'Many Catholics exhibit a mere hopeless antagonism to the present
situation but there are signs that this is changing to a more
active self-respect. It is not ridiculous to envisage a Catholic
civil rights movement in the not too far distant future.'[45]

The 'signs' which John Macrea detected can be seen in a number
of instances. One was a visit to London in 1964 by a delegation
of the anti-partitionist Nationalist Party to discuss discrimination
with British party leaders. This was a tacit acknowledgment of
the fact that Britain had a right and a duty to interfere in Northern
Ireland affairs, if only to clean up the mess. In other words
the Nationalists were beginning to think about reforming the system
rather than insisting on talking only about the fundamental problem
of the Constitution. (Incidentally, Jo Grimond was the only party
leader prepared to meet them.) Its acceptance of the role of Official
Opposition in February 1965 was a more positive step in this direction.

Another sign of changing attitudes was to be seen in the growth
of effective pressure groups. The Campaign for Social Justice
in Northern Ireland (CSJ) was founded in Dungannon on January
17, 1964 'for the purpose of bringing the light of publicity to
bear on the discrimination which exists in our community against
the Catholic section of that community representing more than
one-third of the population.'[46] It produced pamphlets
on such matters as allegations of gerrymandering in Derry and
discrimination in employment, and publicized them as widely as
possible.

The Working Committee on Civil Rights in Northern Ireland was
another body founded in 1964 - in April - and composed of a group
of students at Queen's University, Belfast. Its task was to investigate
allegations of discrimination in Newry and Derry, but it did not
publish a report - lack of finance was given as the reason - and
it did not function after its initial investigation.

The organisation which severely tested the tranquillity of the
political system operating under the crystallized majority was
the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association (NICRA). It had
been founded in February 1967 with a constitution based on that
of the National Council of Civil Liberties in England. Its membership
covered a wide spectrum of political views, although it was predominantly
Catholic. It eschewed the violence and the aims of the IRA and
concentrated on non-violent direct action. Consequently its success
'stemmed partly from the fact that it concentrated less on issues
of personal liberty. . . and more on pressing social problems
like housing and employment. The target was less the Unionist
Government than the Unionist controlled councils; Catholic resentment
was organised, not for the traditional and seemingly unobtainable
objective of Irish unity, but towards clear social goals.'[47]

When it became clear to some Catholics that O'Neill could not,
or would not, rise above pious platitudes the embryonic NICRA
began to threaten action. But it was unsure of itself, since it
lacked a popular mandate. The more militant edge of political
agitation came from a small group of students at Queen's University,
Belfast.

(ii) Student activism

When the Prime Minister embarked on his 'Programme to Enlist the
People (PEP) in January, 1967, he was intent on building the new
Ulster' largely with the assistance of the younger generation's
idealism:

'I have never shared for one moment the disapproving opinions
which some people seem to hold about our younger generation. Irreverent,
yes, questioning, certainly, but also full of energy and idealism
which we do not harness often enough.'[48]

His words fell on deaf ears among the student activists, both
Right and Left. The Right was concentrated in the Young Unionists,
the vanguard of Loyalist intransigence:

'It is not possible to conceive the position of Irish Loyalists
as anything other than a garrison, culturally and spiritually
divorced from a numerically superior and relentlessly hostile
populace.'[49]

The Left saw PEP as a patronising effort
at community reconciliation.

Queen's University had one great advantage as a centre from which
a civil rights campaign could be launched. It was 'the chief centre
of non-sectarian education in the Province[50]with
the Catholic student population composing 22 per cent of the total
in the early 1960's, about the percentage which one would expect
to find, given the Catholic community's economic disabilities.
Relations between students from the two communities are good,
and there is considerable mixing in university societies and clubs.'[51]
Later we shall see that the University base had a long term disadvantage
in that it was transitory and secular. This was a problem peculiar
to student politics elsewhere.

It had no real tradition of radical dissent among its students[52] and
yet one should not be altogether surprised that a mass of students,
and some teaching staff, were involved in the formative demonstrations
which launched the civil rights campaign. There are a number of
reasons why this should be so. We have mentioned the first already;
down the years Queen's students had established their credentials
as a bona fide non-sectarian group. Secondly the inception of
the civil rights demonstrations beginning in late 1968 coincided
with the tail-end of a series of student riots in the Western
world, and for some time its form of protest was permissible because
it was considered to be a student protest. Finally, the student
group which played such an important part in the early civil rights
campaign, the People's Democracy (PD), threw up leaders of calibre
and tenacity.

Any examination of the People's Democracy entails a study of it
in relation to the international student movement. We shall see
that patently it belonged to the student milieu: that the
vast bulk of its membership was student; that its meeting place
was in a campus hall; that its student character was denoted in
the fluidity of its membership; that it established some contact
with other student bodies; and that its brand of activism was
similar to that denoted by one observer in six other countries
- Mexico, Colombia, Japan, India, Egypt and the USA.[53]

At the outset it needs to be said that 'student politics' covers
a multitude of activities and attitudes. We need to be more precise
about what we mean by the term especially since many observers
have tended to concentrate on it as a recent phenomenon. The fact
is that it has existed in varying forms over a number of years
in widely disparate political cultures. 'Many developing areas
have highly articulated traditions of student participation in,
and sometimes leadership of, political events. In Latin America
students have participated in political affairs for generations
and are expected to do so. They have well defined powers in the
governing of universities. In many Asian and African countries,
students were a leading force in the struggle for independence,
and former student leaders often achieved political power in the
post independence governments. Since independence, the student
role in many of these countries has diminished substantially although
governments must still take account of the student movement. Recent
events in South Korea, Turkey, Japan, Indonesia, South Vietnam,
and other countries graphically emphasize the importance of the
students.'[54]

Our concern is not with the developing areas, but rather the liberal-democratic
societies of the Western world. 'By world standards, Northern
Ireland is a relatively prosperous industrial nation. In short,
it meets the two criteria usually employed to define Western nations:
free elections and a modern, industrial economy.'[55] In particular,
we need to look at those countries lacking semi-legitimated student
political activity such as the United States or Western Europe,
where the student protest movement appears to have been a product
of the 1960's. We discover, however, that in France and the United
States there is some evidence of student political activity in
the past. The French organized a national student strike in 1947
for reduction of university fees and increased government grants.
It was a total success.[56] ]In the United States,
in the late 1930's 'the most important general left-liberal group,'
the American Students' Union was reported to have involved over
200,000 students in peace strikes, 'a larger absolute figure than
any peace or anti-war national demonstrations have secured in
recent times.'[57]

A further qualification needs to be made. We are not interested
with those student movements which may be concerned only with
'campus' issues and which have relatively little interest or impact
on the external political situation. 'Such movements have been
called 'etudialist' because of their primary student orientation.
They are often quite militant over issues of student welfare,
fee increases and administrative harassment of students. They
are occasionally interested in the broader issues of educational
policy and reform, although generally student interests are confined
to more limited areas.'[58] Probably the best example of the granting
of 'etudialist' demands was the Cordoba Manifesto of 1918
when Argentine students achieved a fair measure of what they called
'Cogobierno', that is a place in the governing of the
university. Their success has been the model upon which 'etudialist'
students have acted ever since.[59]

The People's Democracy was not such an organisation, although
we shall see that one of its off-shoots displayed a marginal interest
in etudialist' matters. It belongs to that body of 'society-oriented
student movements, which are concerned with societal issues -usually
political, although occasionally social or cultural.'[60]
Superficially it can be compared to Japan's Zengakuren,
a militant student organization adhering to extreme leftist views,
insofar as its orientation has been value directed but 'it has
switched its tactics on a number of occasions to meet the needs
of the students and/or its political ideology.'[61]

To understand the nature of student activism in Northern Ireland
it is necessary to say when it happen - that is at the
end of 1968. The academic year 1967-68 had witnessed a particularly
eventful -and in some cases violent - upsurge of student militance
in Europe. In Italy 'nineteen of the thirty-three state universities
were affected and in thirteen of them the university buildings
were occupied.'[62]In Barcelona the authorities were
forced to install a permanent university police, the policia Universitaria,
on the campus in January 1968.[63] France had its 'May-Days'[64]
and Czechoslovakian students were in the forefront in resisting
the Russian invasion.

The events of that year had been described by a sympathetic, but
critical, observer thus:

'1968 changed for ever the climate, and indeed the limits, of
protests. It saw the baptism of new radicals, now isolated from
the old Left by their revolutionary actions and the theory which
had grown from them, which had been melded in the frustrating
struggle for civil rights, against nuclear extinction, and against
the war in Vietnam. Those struggles brought the participants face
to face with the governing system whose total authority they challenged
and fought. Armed with ideals (but not an ideology), strong on
rhetoric and weak - deliberately so - on concrete proposals, they
sallied forth to test their ideals on a larger canvas, to add
to them the experience of those whose discontents were as yet
inarticulate.'[65]

It was in this milieu, that the People's Democracy emerged.
In its first few months of existence it was to reflect the militance
of the European student movement - direct action, sit-ins, sit-downs,
pickets, marches, spontaneity. Like its French counterparts'...
the emphasis was on spontaneity: "Bourgeons d'abord; nous
ferons la theorie du mouvement apres" was how Daniel
Cohn-Bendit described it (roughly translated it means "let's
give things a shove first: we'll compose the theory of the movement
afterwards").[66]

It belonged to what is known as the New Left which has been defined
as 'a particular segment of young activists who were self-consciously
radical ideologically, but disaffected from all "established
radicalisms" and who self-consciously sought to provide political
direction, theoretical coherence, and organizational continuity
to the student movement. The central issue for the New Left has
always been the problem of agency - that is, which classes and
strata in the society are more disposed towards active opposition
to the status-quo, what means of power can they exercise, and
with what effect?'[67]

We shall see, then, that PD was a movement of radical dissent,
equipped with the militance of student activism, ideologically
uncertain but composed of a melange of leftist ideals.
Any study of its evolution must concentrate not only because it
established it in the mainstream of student politics but also
because it influenced its search for ideology. 'It was Daniel
Cohn-Bendit who best understood that the only way to break through
the doctrinal and organizational divisions was to fuse all radical
groups in direct action with immediate aims. Being contagious,
action would mobilize growing numbers of students ... The radical
education of the mass of the students would be best obtained not
by having them listen to leaders, but by involving them in radical
action, in daily free assemblies, in deciding through collective
debate what was to be done by who. The practice of direct democracy
and action would produce a new type of self-organized vanguard,
abolishing all authority and responsibility, abolishing all divisions
into "leaders" and "led" submitting the theorists
to the criticisms and control of the rank and file.'[68]

Its evolution through activism can best be studied in three phases:
the first from October 1968 until after the general election in
February 1969 when it was an organization to be reckoned with;
the second from March until October 1969 when it was in decline
and searching for a role; and the third was from October 1969
onwards when it began its slow and ponderous attempt at building
up an overtly revolutionary organization.

(iii) Incipiency[69]

By 1968 there was very little indication that Belfast undergraduates
were part of the world-wide wave of student protest. There were
a few demonstrations protesting at American involvement in South
East Asia but it is clear that the vast majority of the student
body were indifferent to them. For example, the largest anti-Vietnam
march in Belfast attracted only about fifty participants.[70]
Bernadette Devlin had been disillusioned by her first encounter
with student apathy: '. . . I'd been involved in a demonstration
when we were asked to show solidarity with the foreign students
at Queen's whose fees had been raised by 125 per cent by the Government.
On that occasion we couldn't get fifty students on the streets
to complain.'[71]

The small clique of students who were self-consciously activist
and socialist were centred around the 'Queen's University Independent
Left' (QUB Labour Group). Essentially they were anti-partitionist
although some of them belonged to the Northern Ireland Labour
Party (NILP), a social democratic party which accepted the union
with Britain.[72]These people - in particular Bowes
Egan, Michael Farrell and Eamonn McCann - were responsible for
the 'Working Committee on Civil Rights in Northern Ireland' of
April 1964, one of the first bodies to concern itself with demands
for social justice within Northern Ireland. They personified the
prescience, the tenacity, the idealism and the militance of the
early civil rights campaign.

The same group also personified one aspect of the success of the
Welfare State. They were part of that generation of Catholics
which had taken advantage of the Education Act of 1947 which opened
up higher education to those of ability. And they represented
another facet of the 'student movement': 'Student political activity
often contains an important non-student element, which sometimes
provides direction and ideological sophistication to the movement.
In most societies the student community consists not only of students
currently enrolled in institutions of higher education, but also
of ex-students or part-time students who wish to remain on the
periphery of the student community . . . Part of the underground
of the student population, those elements cannot be overlooked
as they are often of crucial importance to student movements.'[73]

Easily the most important member of that 'underground' was Michael
Farrell. A cursory examination of his early political career is
revealing. As an undergraduate Farrell had been chairman of the
QUB Labour Group 1965-6, Vice-President of the Union of Students
of Ireland 1965-6, External Relations Officer of QUB Students'
Representative Council, Queen's Orator in two successive years,
executive member of the Northern Ireland Labour Party (NILP) in
1967, and founder member and first chairman of the Irish Association
of Labour Student Organisations (IALSO) 1966-7. Furthermore he
had belonged to the Irish Workers' Group, a revolutionary socialist
group named as a subversive organization by the Minister of Home
Affairs, Mr William Craig, at Stormont on October 16, 1968. Finally
he was the first chairman of the Young Socialist Alliance (YSA)[74]
founded in June 1968 after he had returned from the University
of Strathclyde where he had been pursuing a postgraduate course
in political science. His talents as an organiser, orator - some
would say 'demagogue' - and agitator are unquestionable. More
than anyone else he personifies the People's Democracy in all
its phases.

During the early 1960's the QUB Labour Group concentrated on a
programme of propaganda and education. Farrell and others weaved
a thread through their contacts with NILP, the Young Socialist
Alliance, the Irish Association of Labour Students Organisations
and the Irish Workers' Group, the thread of student activism and
promotion of a leftist anti-partitionist stance. Thus their activities
within the NILP appeared to be conventional enough. They canvassed
vigorously for NILP candidates in the General Election of 1965,
but they used their other organisations to move NILP in a leftward
and anti-partitionist direction. At Easter 1966, for example,
Farrell represented the Labour Group at the National Association
of Labour Students Organisations annual conference in Sheffield.
'Queen's submitted six motions, all of which were carried, including
a long policy statement on Northern Ireland which condemned religious
discrimination and sectarianism as the devices of the ruling classes
to keep the working class divided and in subjection . . . The
only solution to Ulster's problems was the union of the Catholic
and Protestant working class in a united and militant Labour movement.'[75]

The Ulster problem was brought to the attention of another militant
New Left group, the London-based International Socialists [76]
and in October 1966 one of its members, John Palmer, addressed
South Belfast Young Socialists on 'The Crisis of the Labour Government.'[77]
(This cross-fertilisation of information and ideas, a familiar
trait of the New Left, resulted in the International Socialists
becoming involved in the civil rights issue from 1969 onwards
by working with the People's Democracy in Belfast and Eamonn McCann
in Derry.)

The desire for a united working class in Ulster appears to have
been only the opening act in Farrell's intended scenario. He worked
with others - in particular Cyril Toman[78] - to establish closer
links with socialists in the Republic. The Irish Association of
Labour Student Organisations was the first fruit of this policy.
It was what its name implied - a loose formation of socialists
from the Irish universities, modelled on its British counterpart,
NALSO. Farrell's view of the significance of IALSO can be seen
in an extract from his (the chairman's) report to the first conference
in 1967:

'IALSO by virtue of its all-Ireland character can play an important
part in creating a single all-Ireland Socialist Party which is
a vital prerequisite for the establishment of a workers' Republic
as only a socialist party can unite the working class of both
parts of Ireland in the struggle against their common capitalist
master.'[79]

Within the NILP Farrell campaigned vigorously to establish some
formal links with other Irish social-democratic parties, and,
with the support of some of the more senior members of the executive,
he played his part in starting 'The Council of Labour in Ireland.'
It brought together the NILP, the Republican Labour Party and
the Irish Labour Party from time to time to discuss matters of
common interest. It was not an entirely harmonious body but its
significance lies in the fact that some sort of respected socialist
body with an all-Ireland character had been formed; and also in
the fact that it was the Universities' branch of the Irish Labour
Party which had proposed the motion for its formation at the southern
end.[80]This was the first example of Irish socialist
students working in close liaison towards a common end.

The influence of the QUB Labour Group within the NILP did not
stop at the formation of the Council of Labour in Ireland. At
the 1967 Annual Conference the Labour Group were successful in
having a motion accepted which called for a British Government
Enquiry into Northern Ireland and urged co-operation with the
Campaign for Democracy in Ulster.[81]

Thus the Labour Group had used conventional political tactics
to open up the Ulster problem. It had been instrumental in the
formation of IALSO, had played a leading role in establishing
the Council of Labour in Ireland and had persuaded the partitionist
NILP to call for an enquiry into the administration of Ulster
by the Unionists. Some of the leaders of the Labour Group had
made contact with the more overtly revolutionary organisations,
the Irish Workers' Group and the International Socialists.

These successes, however, could only be converted into reality
by a mass movement. The student activists of the Labour Group
quite naturally looked to students to supply the basis of such
a movement. Their first real opportunity occurred in 1967. On
7 March 1967 Mr William Craig, the Minister of Home Affairs, made
an order under the Special Powers Act proscribing Republican
Clubs on the grounds that they were simply a front for the IRA.
His move was widely interpreted as an attempt to appease extreme
Protestants and was resisted immediately by some Queen's students
with republican sympathies. On March 8 they set up a Republican
Club and applied to the Student Representative Council for official
recognition. On 10 March they held a protest march banned by the
Academic Council, in which about eighty students took part. The
following day Young Socialists joined the protest by parading
through Belfast chanting 'Tories Out - North and South', 'Repeal
the Special Powers Act,' 'Craig Must Go' and 'No Fascist Laws
-No Fascist Bans.'[82] (These slogans were to become
familiar to the Belfast public at the latter end of 1968 when
the People's Democracy campaign got under way.)

In May, the QUBSRC approved the Queen's Republican Club, but on
6 November the Academic Council refused to recognise it. As a
consequence of this decision and in protest against the intransigence
of the Home Affairs Minister they decided to march to the Unionist
headquarters to protest against the ban. The march - on 15 November
- was organised by a body calling itself the Students' Joint Action
Committee Against Suppression of Civil Liberties, an amalgam of
students from the political movements within the university and
the SRC. It attracted considerable support among the student body:

'The students of Queen's University - not merely those belonging
to this Republican Club - as represented on a joint action committee,
have decided on the good old principle that an injury to one is
an injury to all, to combine in the interests of civil liberty
and in order to meet this arbitrary decision by the Minister of
Home Affairs.'[83]

Between 1,500 and 2,000 students participated in an orderly march
to Mr. Craig's home. (A late decision had been taken not to march
to the Unionist headquarters because it entailed passing through
Shaftesbury Square, an area which the Rev Ian Paisley considered
to be loyalist territory. He held a meeting there to ensure that
the students did not march through it.) At Mr Craig's home the
marchers observed a silence, and handed in a protest against the
ban on the Republican Clubs. Afterwards Mr Craig praised the students
for their orderly conduct.

In itself the protest appeared to be uneventful and relatively
unimportant. It demonstrated that Belfast students were not totally
apathetic. But in retrospect one realizes its significance. Martin
Wallace aptly makes the point: 'On the whole, the ban proved ineffectual
but it had the effect of stirring up student opposition to the
Unionist administration and to Craig himself and this was to prove
an important factor when the civil rights campaign got under way.'[85]
Further, it created a machine, the Joint Action Committee, which
could be used to organise more protests if need be, and it illustrated
the point that undergraduates were willing to protest if their
sense of justice was injured. But they were not willing to be
led by any partisan politicians and they would insist that the
organising committee would have to be a broad spectrum of student
opinion. Given these prerequisites the student body indicated
that it could be a strong and responsible pressure group.

The moderate behaviour of the student action also underlined two
facets at the inception of a radical movement. 'In liberal democratic
societies the establishment's response is typically an indulgent
one at the inception of a radical movement, with emphasis upon
co-optation and absorption.'[86] The Minister of Home
Affairs congratulatory remarks can be seen as an example of the
establishment's indulgence. Secondly, 'There is typically a commitment
within the movement in its earliest stages to work within the
system, since the boundaries of "the system" (at least
as they pertain to the particular movement) are not well defined.'[87]
The avoidance of Shaftesbury Square and the peaceful conduct
of the demonstration indicated the students' deference to 'the
system.'

That march was probably the first assertion of the 'mere active
self-respect' which John Macrae detected in some Catholics. NICRA
was to provide others during 1968.

At a conference in London in February 1968 at which Labour MPs
and members of the Stormont Opposition were present, the civil
rights movement decided to make 'a more open challenge of the
Stormont Government, taking as their point of attack the discriminatory
allocation of housing by Unionist-controlled local authorities.'[88]
Their first attack was made on 20 June when a Nationalist
MP, Mr Austin Currie, occupied a house in the Co Tyrone village
of Caledon, in protest against alleged discrimination in allocation.
He was evicted after a few hours, but had the satisfaction of
wide media coverage of the event.

This action was followed up by a protest march from Coalisland
to Dungannon on 24 August, again to protest at alleged discrimination,
and organised jointly by the Campaign for Social Justice (CSJ)
and NICRA. It passed off peacefully but the marchers were prevented
from reaching their final destination in Market Square, Dungannon.
They held a meeting at the police barrier instead and thus 'had
accepted the restriction which gave them the appearance of engaging
in a sectarian agitation.'[89]

Its partial success encouraged NICRA to hold another demonstration
in Derry - seen by Catholics as epitomising the evils of Unionist
rule with its high unemployment, gerrymandering and discrimination
in public services - on 5 October. When the Minister of Home Affairs
refused to accept the route proposed by NICRA on 3 October, some
of the executive were in favour of calling off the march. But
left-wingers in Derry would not countenance any change in plans,
and persuaded the majority of the executive to go ahead with the
march. The person who argued their case most cogently and was
largely responsible for the initial organising was Eamonn McCann.[90]
Immediately he received the support of the QUB Labour Group, the
Belfast Young Socialist Alliance, the NILP, Young Socialists,
the James Connolly Republican Club in Derry, the Londonderry Labour
Party and the Derry Housing Action Committee.

The march went ahead on October 5. It attracted about 2,000 people
including six members of Parliament (three of whom were English
observers) and forty members of the Young Socialist Alliance who
had travelled from Belfast. It ended in a serious riot when the
demonstrators attempted to break the ban. The police riot squad
retaliated by hemming in the crowd in a narrow street and using
their batons and two water cannons indiscriminately. In all, 77
civilians and 11 policemen were injured. Rioting spread to the
Catholic west side of the city and spilled over into the next
day. Subsequently there were vigorous criticisms of police behaviour
that day.[91] Among those arrested were four students.

The wheel was turning full circle. The violence at the setting
up of the state, which had been replaced by a sullen apathy. by
the Catholic minority, was creeping back into Northern Ireland
politics. The activists were insistent on destroying the supposed
tranquillity of the system and the key they were to use was the
demand for civil rights and social justice.' The student movement
was to be in the vanguard of this movement as it probed the boundaries
of tolerance in the system.